


Blazing Guns, Racing Hearts

by Tomarrywolfstarftw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe- Mafia, Betaed, Child Abuse, Cop!Harry Potter, Good Dudley Dursley, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mafia!Tom Riddle, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Petunia Dursley isn't that bad, Sugar Daddy Tom Riddle, Vernon Dursley Being an Asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomarrywolfstarftw/pseuds/Tomarrywolfstarftw
Summary: Harry gets kicked out by Vernon, and ends up living on the streets, when he meets Tom Riddle, a suspiciously nice man who is willing to pay for Harry to go through police training. Harry is weary, but accepts, as he really doesn't have a way to pay for it himself and it's always been his dream. Harry spends two months with Tom when he learns something very upsetting, will he stay with Tom, or will he leave? He can't quite decide.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 17
Kudos: 207





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to CynthiaReine for Beta reading, go ahead and check them out!

Harry was in the middle of doing the dishes when his Uncle Vernon came in and grabbed a bottle of Scotch from the liquor cabinet above the stove. Harry paused and watched from the corner of his eye as Vernon ambled back out of the room, releasing the breath of air trapped in his lungs as he crossed the threshold. Harry was now a bit anxious over how the night would go, as things always got a bit tense in the house when Vernon drank.

  
Harry hurried through the last of the dishes and started up the stairs, noticing Vernon sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the telly and sipping his Scotch. Harry tapped on the door to the guest room where Aunt Petunia was replacing the curtains. Petunia looked over to her nephew and pursed her lips a bit, nodding her head toward him in acknowledgement.

  


“He's broken into the scotch again.”

  


Petunia grimaced and shooed Harry out before hurriedly putting the curtain rod back together. Harry continued down the hall, but could hear as Petunia opened Dudley’s door and told him to get his coat. Harry raised his hand in a wave as they went by, getting slight smiles in return.

  


They had an arrangement, Harry would warn Petunia when Vernon was drinking, and she would make up an excuse for her and Dudley to leave. They had tried to take Harry along as well when he was younger, but that never ended well for any of them. It was better for them all if at least one of them stayed behind, and that was usually Harry, and while he understood, he often wished it wasn’t him all the time.

  


Harry laid on his twin sized bed, tossing his baseball up and down while listening to the conversation downstairs. It was convenient, really, having an air vent in his room that connected to the one on the floor below.

  


“Vernon dear, Dudley and I are running down to the market, do you need anything?”

  


“Would you pick up some whiskey, Pet?”

  


“Of course, Vernon. Come along Dudley.”

  


Harry heard the front door open and shut, and then the volume on the telly turning up. Vernon seemed to be either watching an action movie or a horror movie based on the shooting and screaming Harry could hear, Harry hoped it would keep him occupied for the night. Petunia was probably hoping Vernon would have passed out by the time they got back home.

  


Harry jumped and dropped his baseball onto his nose when a particularly loud scream came from the telly down stairs. Rubbing at his nose, which he was sure would wind up bruising, he sighed and rolled onto his stomach, pulling a shoe box from under his bed and putting the baseball in it. The box had the few possessions of his parents that Petunia had managed to give to him, including his father's badge, his mother's hospital ID, and their wedding rings, as well as his aunt’s invitation to their wedding. He smiled a bit, tracing the edge of his mother’s diamond ring, before closing the lid and pushing the box back under his bed.

  


Harry pushed himself out of bed after a while and walked over to his dresser, changing into an old t-shirt and a pair of plaid cotton pajama bottoms. He crept down the hall to the loo and brushed his teeth. He looked at the comb on the counter, and decided against using it tonight, it was too much effort and Harry was honestly ready to just go to sleep.

  


He started back towards his room, but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized he wasn’t hearing any noise coming from downstairs. He started and scurried the rest of the way down the hall to his room when he heard a creek from the stairs. He was hoping Vernon would forget he was there, and he would be out of sight and out of mind. He shut his door with a soft click just as Vernon reached the top of the stairs, releasing the breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding.

  


Harry froze where he was, in the middle of leaning down to sit on his bed, when he saw a shadow pause in front of his door. He stayed frozen for a minute, even after the shadow moved on, until he heard another door open and shut. He sat all the way down, and leaned back, not even bothering with his covers, just sitting there trying to get his heart to stop trying to beat it’s way out of his chest. Harry scoffed at himself a bit, annoyed that even after all this time, his uncle still managed to scare him. Once his heart stopped racing, he pulled his cover on and fell into a fitful sleep.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @blackesparrow for editing this chapter!

Harry woke up to the sound of a crash coming from the first floor. He wanted to get up and check it out, but he had heard Vernon come thundering down the hall. After lying there for a moment, he heard Vernon reach the end of the stairs, and start yelling.

‘He probably won’t do anything to me,’ Harry thought, ‘after all I’m not the one who caused the crash.’ He sighed and got up slowly, peeking outside his door, then shutting it quietly behind him as he started down the hall. Harry reached the first step, his heart pounding, and heard a smack. He flinched, pausing for a moment, then started back down the stairs when he heard Vernon continue yelling. At this point he was sure he knew what had happened; he was certain that either Petunia or Dudley had knocked over Vernon’s glass, or maybe even the bottle of scotch on their way in. Harry got to the bottom of the stairs, and peered around the corner just in time to see Petunia fall to the ground from another blow. 

He watched anxiously, waiting for her to get back up. He just needed her to get back up, then he could go upstairs with Dudley who had been inching carefully toward the stairs, and sit in his room together. Normally when things like this happened, Petunia would take the fall, even for Harry, and the boys would sit in one of their rooms together, waiting for the yelling to stop, and Petunia would come and quietly sit with them for a while when it did. Never talking, just sitting and giving each other support.  
This time though, Petunia wasn’t moving. Harry’s breathing started to speed up, as his aunt lay there, still as a corpse. He wasn’t sure what to do; this was a completely new situation- she always managed to come and see them within fifteen minutes. Vernon’s anger was like a match, starting quick and strong, but quickly petering out, so there had never been much serious harm that befell any of them. 

Dudley had yet to notice that she wasn’t moving, and had almost reached Harry, but still hadn’t noticed him. If he had, he would have seen Harry’s look of wide eyed panic. He was just about to reach Harry, when Harry sprinted out and got between Vernon and the blows he was still delivering to Petunia's still body. He took the next few hits to his stomach before Vernon noticed he was no longer hitting his wife. Vernon grabbed him by his hair, and pulled him along behind him to the front door, either not noticing or not caring when he dragged him through the shattered glass that hadn’t yet managed to be cleaned up. Harry tried not to scream, but couldn’t quite hold in a shrill screech at the white hot agony exploding in his knees and calves from the shards of glass. He let go of Vernon’s wrists, which he had been holding to try to decrease at least a bit of the pain, and slapped his hands over his face, causing him to drop even further onto the glass. Vernon just continued dragging him, and Harry ended up flipping onto his back, no longer anchored to Vernon’s wrist, which made the last few pieces of glass to dig into his back. He arched his back in an attempt to avoid any more glass that could be on the floor, but it only caused the glass now in his back to shift, sending another lance of pain through his body.

Harry went limp, mind hazy from the pain, when his back started to feel like it was catching fire. He had just been pulled through the puddle of scotch and whiskey, and it was large enough to finally soak through his pajamas. He tried to scream, but he wasn’t making any noise. Harry opened his eyes, looking around for something, anything, to get himself out of his Uncle’s grip. 

He darted his eyes to the left, seeing a piece of glass with the Jack Daniels label still on it sitting in a brown paper bag right near the door. He waited until they reached the door, trying not to black out, and determinedly kept his eyes focused, his vision swimming all the while. They made it to the door, and Harry thanked whatever god was out there that he hadn’t passed out yet, making a grab for the shard as he passed. Vernon already had the door open and was stepping through it when Harry made his first swing with the glass. He missed, having gone a little too far to the right, but tried again not even a second after. He missed the next few tries, but finally managed to just barely hit his Uncle’s forearm. Harry went to swing again, but missed as Vernon let go with a yell. He noticed a few things after he hit the ground: Dudley was yelling for his father to stop, or at least Harry assumed; it felt like he was underwater; and the neighbor was looking out his window from number five.

He wheezed, mouth opening in another silent scream when a slippered foot landed on his nose, shattering his glasses in the process. The last thing Harry noticed before he finally fell into unconsciousness was himself being shoved into the back seat of Vernon’s work truck.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by @TediumDictata (HollowLies) . Chapters will probably be pretty short, but they will be more frequent than my other story, so win some lose some I guess. (only a small edit was made, if you've already been reading, this is the same update as last time)

Harry woke up to the blaring of sirens, and flashing blue lights. He was groggy and in excruciating pain. He could hear Vernon cursing, saying something along the lines of, “Should’ve never taken the brat in… nothing but trouble.”

He slid about as Vernon pulled to the side, screeching the car to a stop. The brakes squealed from the sudden stop sending Harry to the floorboards. He heard a voice over a sound system say, “Step out of the vehicle, and don’t touch the boy! Vernon Dursley you are under arrest for suspected domestic abuse, drunk driving, and child abuse. You have the rights to say nothing, but it may harm your defense if you keep information when questioned; which you may later rely on in court.”

Vernon looked like he was debating if he should get out or not. Eventually, he did, sighing, reaching into his glove box, and pulling something out. He stepped out of the car with whatever it was at his side. Harry sat up to watch through the window to see what would happen. He didn’t know what Vernon had, as he couldn’t see a thing past his elbow without his glasses. A policeman started walking forward with no weapons drawn. The man halted mid-step, then started running forward; when he reached Vernon, he got him into an arm lock, knocking whatever Vernon was holding to the ground, causing a loud bang. Harry heard a pop immediately after, and the right side of the boot started to sink. 

The officer managed to somehow get cuffs around Vernon’s meaty wrists, when another officer came and helped lift Vernon to his feet. He was led to the back of the police car, and his head was pushed down as he was assisted into the car. The first officer came over to the truck and opened the door to help Harry out. Everything seemed too surreal to Harry, it felt like time was racing, but still somehow only crawling by. He felt like he was in a tunnel in the middle of a storm; the noises around him not quite reaching him, being drowned out by the blood roaring through his ears. He vaguely heard the officer ask him for his name, which he muttered uncaring if the officer could actually hear him. 

“Let’s get you to the hospital lad, you’re looking pretty rough at the mo” 

Harry nodded his head, holding onto the man’s arm as he was led to the yellow and green ambulance. Harry was picked up and placed in the back by a strong looking young man, next to a sinewy woman who looked very worried. Harry had a brief moment of perfect clarity, and turned back to look at the officer, “My Aunt? Has she been checked on yet? Is she ok? She wasn’t moving last I saw her.”

“Your Aunt has already been taken to the hospital lad, get some rest.”

Harry sighed and turned back to the stretcher, plopped down, and promptly passed out.

____________________________________________________________________________

A few days later, the smallest of Harry’s cuts had healed, as well as almost all of the ones on his calves. The doctor had said he would likely be cleared to go back home with his Aunt Petunia while Vernon awaited trial. At least, that was what the plan had been; Petunia still wasn’t awake, so it was unlikely that much could be done for him and Dudley. They couldn’t go back to Privet Drive alone, and Dudley was already staying with Aunt Marge, who detested Harry anyway. He wouldn’t want to go anywhere near her and the demon dogs she owned if he didn’t have too, so he was glad when he was told he wouldn’t have to stay with her. Well, he was glad until foster care was mentioned. The only thing worse than Marge was the tales he had heard of the foster care system. He had been told that foster care was rife with abuse and neglect, and while he wasn’t sure if it was true as it was his Uncle who had spun these tales, he didn’t want to risk it. He had to go. Dudley would be fine with Marge, and Petunia wouldn’t care all that much because it would mean she would only have to take care of one teenager. 

‘Tomorrow,’ thought Harry frantically, ‘I’ll watch today, see how the guard shifts work, and slip out the first chance I get tomorrow.’

So he did. He watched all day, and even had a back up plan, if he couldn’t get out during shift change. He would wait until three pm when Ronnie would switch positions with Sherryl. Sherryl was nice, and wouldn’t question what he was doing if he did leave his room for a bit, after all, he did have clearance to go to the cafeteria alone. 

With that in mind, Harry settled down on his bed, his clothes wedged underneath; and fell into a light sleep.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So um, I'm not dead? also this isn't beta read so just like, enjoy this grammatical hellscape. yep that's all I guess.

Harry woke up to the door opening and some shuffling feet. The doctor -Dr. Malacath- was coming in to check up on him once again. Harry was tired, yet unwilling to risk being watched closer due to him being uncooperative so he decided to just sit up and let Dr. Malacath check his breathing. He took a deep breath in when prompted, slowly letting it out while the stethoscope moved over his back. Dr. Malacath smiled at him, lightly patting his shoulder and said, “Everything sounds as well as it should after this whole ordeal, and you should be cleared to go home- er, with the social worker that is- within a couple days. You’ve done so well so far Mr. Potter, the only advice I can give you at the moment is to stay strong. I hope everything goes well for you, and know that if you ever need anything, you can always call me,” here he gave Harry a slip with a phone number on it, “no matter what it is you need. A place to stay, some cheaper treatment, even just some company, you’re always welcome to contact me.” 

The doctor was a nice man, and Harry rather liked him, but he wasn’t sure he could trust the man fully. He didn’t think the man would do anything to him directly, but he was sure that the man would stop him from leaving if he gave any indication that he was planning to. He also didn’t want to risk the man growing resentful of him as his uncle had. He was just so done with dealing with adults, he honestly just wanted to go hunker down in a cave somewhere and never interact with society again. The door closing as the doctor left pulled him out of his thoughts causing Harry to jump. 

He glanced over at the clock hanging from the wall above the telly. Two thirty two. He had just under half an hour to get his stuff together and then leave. He didn’t want to start too early, so he was just going to sit for another fifteen to twenty minutes. He didn’t want to sit idly though, so he began fiddling with a seam on his sheets, he would need something to stave the bleeding when he took out his IV after all. Harry finally saw the seam split just as the clock hit two fifty, so he quickly tore off a strip, struggling slightly with the effort he had to put in. 

He crawled out of the bed, balling the strip of sheet up in his fist, and bent down to grab the clothes he had stashed under his bed using his IV stand to stabilize himself. He glanced at the clock again just to make sure he could leave without running into Ronnie. Two fifty eight. He was in the clear. He tied the clothes around his waist under his hospital gown, shoving his t-shirt into the space between his skin and the jeans, slipping on his shoes over his no slip socks. Not the most comfortable thing, but it would get the job done. He patted himself down, making sure he didn’t look too conspicuous and set out down the corridor outside his room. He nodded to Sherryl as he passed, but the older woman stopped him in his tracks when she cleared her throat. No one with hair resembling a poodle should be able to instill so much terror with a simple noise. He turned around tilting his head questioningly with his heart in his throat. 

“Finally get tired of the cold on your feet dear? Ya know you’re not technically allowed to wear your shoes, but as long as you’re quick and get past Ronnie before he comes back around to visit I won’t tell a soul,” here she gave him a wink,” just be sure not to run into anyone else hun.”

Harry swore he felt his heart stop, shoulders drooping down from how tense they were, he laughed a bit and nodded, giving her a smile as he turned to continue towards the cafeteria. 

The only other time he ran into someone was as he walked into the bathroom next to the cafeteria and it was just someone visiting. He sighed and walked into a stall, locking the door behind him, and took the balled up strip of sheet and wrapped it around the IV, pushing down over top of the needle, and pulled it out of his arm, wincing in the process. Harry pulled the sheet tighter and finished wrapping it up, tying it off and shoving the ends inside. He looped the IV around the stand pushing it to the corner of the stall. He changed relatively quickly and draped the hospital gown over the IV stand. He stepped back outside of the stall and walked in front of the mirror, moving his hair about to try to make it look better, which never actually worked all that well for him so he wasn’t sure why he bothered. 

He grabbed his wallet before he left looking at the few bills he had, knowing they didn’t amount to much. He would probably only be able to get one or two meals out of it, maybe a cab ride as well if he was lucky. He sighed and started out the door, bypassing the cafeteria to go out the front door. He made it out the door with little to no fuss except for a scrutinizing glance from the lady sitting at the front desk. He walked out to the sidewalk glancing around to try to find out where exactly he was, and from what he could tell he was lucky enough to be taken to a hospital in London. The crowds meant he could blend in and drift around unnoticed for a bit. He had practice going unnoticed so he wasn’t too worried about it, and no matter how much he hated it he sadly wasn’t above being a pickpocket; although he would rather avoid doing so until he absolutely had to. 

For now Harry was just going to find somewhere to hunker down for the night, which shouldn’t be too hard, after all London had plenty of alleys and shelters he could stay at if necessary.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp. once again unbetaed and once again I am, in fact, alive. Also been really into Twilight lately. Charlie Swan am I right?

Harry had been staying on his own out in the streets for about two months now, not with any specific purpose or driving force besides living for another day. He had managed to stop in at a shelter to get cleaned up for the day he had planned, as he was planning to pickpocket someone for the sixth time since he had left the hospital. He tried to avoid taking from anyone who looked as if they would suffer from it, so he tried to just knab things from people who looked well off. He may be a petty thief for now, and have a slightly skewed moral compass from all he had been through, but he didn’t want to actively hurt anyone if he could help it.

It was about mid day when Harry found the perfect target to get some fast cash from. He wasn’t really in the mood to do anything fancy so at first he just watched the woman he had noticed. She was relatively easy to spot, as she had rather long curly hair that managed not to be frizzy in the day's humidity. She walked with a certain grace about her as though she was used to being around high status people, or was high status herself. She wasn’t carrying a purse, but Harry could tell she did have a wallet on her as she kept tapping at her left pocket every once in a while. Harry cut off into an alley grabbing a book that had been thrown in the garbage left on the ground and sprinted to get around to the other side of the block before she could turn down a different street. He got to the beginning of the block and paused to take a breath so it wasn’t obvious he had been running. He had just got his breathing even when he spotted her again, so he straightened his back and opened the book to a random page holding it in one hand. He put himself in her path and knocked into her shoulder, quickly grabbing her wallet while attempting to move the fabric as little as possible. He apologized quickly and felt around the wallet within his own pocket pulling out everything that felt like paper. He closed his book as she continued on after she had given a harsh sigh, after a few seconds he pulled the wallet back out of his pocket and rushed to catch up with her again. 

“Ma’am! I think you dropped your wallet!”

“What? No I didn’t I would have felt it.”

“Well are you sure? Here I’ll check,” Harry opened the wallet and looked at the driver's license inside that said ‘Bellatrix Lestrange’ with a grainy picture of the woman by it, “would you happen to be a… Bellatrix Lestrange?”

“Yes… boy did you just pickpocket me?”

“What?! No, I would never! Ma’am I am a police officer in training! Er, well, I’m going to be. Now, here is your wallet, and I must be going now.”

Harry hurried off before she had a chance to ask anything else, pulling everything from his pocket as he did. He had about four hundred pounds as well as a few receipts, and a piece of folded up notebook paper. Curious, Harry opened the note and read it.

_ 582 E. Sterling street, 1 pm, heavily armed, use caution, grab everything you can.  _

The note was written in choppy sentences, and a neat cursive script. He wasn’t sure he exactly wanted to know what was going on, but he also felt strangely obligated to at least make sure it wasn’t anything too  nefarious . He could tolerate if the woman were robbing someone, he wouldn’t be happy about it, but he wouldn’t report it and would probably only report her if it seemed violent. 

He shrugged, shoving the note in his pocket and pushing it to the back of his mind. He wasn’t going to worry about something he couldn’t do anything about yet, but he did start heading in that general direction. Harry had always had a problem with getting involved in things he shouldn’t, his aunt said it had to be inherited from his dad who apparently did the same as a kid. 

He wandered down the street aimlessly for a while until he found a caf é nearby. He ordered a club sandwich, paying with the money he had just taken from Bellatrix. He sat down to eat, and happened to catch a glimpse of the clock hanging above the register, which read 12:31. His eyes widened and he jumped up quickly, sandwich in hand, then proceeded to hurry down the street towards Sterling Street. 

He bumped into a few people in his haste, not bothering to apologize, but did arrive in about twenty minutes. He found the building the note mentioned, which just so happened to be a cheery looking bakery called  _ Patties Pastries _ . He looked at the surrounding stores but decided against going into any of them as none of them had a very good view of the bakery. He had just decided to lean against the wall of a boutique as though waiting for someone inside when two black vans pulled in front of the bakery. ‘How much more suspicious can you get,’ Harry thought, ‘it’s not like that's how every robbery goes in every. Single. Spy movie.’ 

He was curious why they needed two trucks for such a small store though. Maybe they were just cutting through the store? Possibly planning to hit a few stores at the same time? The doors to the vans opened in, quite frankly, unsettling unison. Out poured about ten people, all carrying handguns and duffle bags. None of them had their faces covered in any meaningful way, but a few had bandanas in hand. 

Just when Harry thought he wouldn’t be noticed one of them looked right at him. The man had long black hair, pulled back into a low ponytail, and sharp gray eyes. Harry blinked and raised his hand in a half wave with an awkward smile on his face. 


End file.
